Garrett’s Destiny by Anna Blakely

Chapter 11

Tactical Operations Headquarters—Charlotte, N.C.

“What the fuckdo you mean, Falcon’s missing?” Ethan “Apollo” McAllister demanded to know.

Rafe Owens, owner of Tactical Operations, looked at the three men standing in his office before addressing Apollo directly.

Apollo wasn’t his real name. Just like Bones, Digger, and Falcon weren’t the legal names given to the other men of Tac-Ops One. But when they were in operative mode, those nicknames represented not only who these men were, but what they were capable of.

And right now, Apollo was staring back at him with eyes so dark they almost matched his black hair. Looking ready to beat the hell out of someone, just as the former SEAL’s nickname suggested.

“Let me rephrase,” Rafe corrected himself. “We know where Falcon is. Or rather, we know where his tracker is. But our efforts to reach him have been unsuccessful.”

“Back up.” The man they all called Bones raised a hand.

Not only was Beckett “Bones” Stone their team medic—which required extensive knowledge of the human anatomy—but the former Marine had also broken damn near every bone in his body at one point or another throughout his thirty-two years.

Hence, the nickname.

“I thought you cut our vacation short because we had another op,” Bones pointed out.

“I did.” Rafe tipped his chin.

“So…what are you saying, Boss?” Apollo spoke up again. “That Falcon’s the job?”

“Affirmative.”

As expected, the room filled with several expletives and demands to know what the hell was going on with their teammate. Raising a hand, Rafe waited for them to grow silent before speaking again. When the men quieted, he brought them up to speed.

“This is what we know.Two hours ago, Shadow received an emergency transmission from Falcon’s watch. She immediately began trying to contact him, but when she couldn’t get ahold of him, I tried tracking him down as well.”

“Two hours?” Bones’ voice rose an octave. “Why the hell are we just finding out about this now?”

“This isn’t your first rodeo, so you should know the answer to that,” Rafe reminded the other man. “First, we exhaust all capabilities to make contact, then we verify with every source we can that there is, in fact, a hostage situation. Once we have a location, we can start planning.”

“This is different, Boss.” Bones shook his head. “Falcon’s one of us.”

“I’m aware.” The back of Rafe’s teeth ground together. “I’m also aware of the fact that just because Falcon’s watch and phone are pinging from one location, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s there, too. You know how this works, Bones. The minute we start assuming things, shit goes sideways.”

Rafe may be former British Intelligence, but he wasn’t a heartless bastard. During his twenty years as MI6, he’d lost more friends and co-workers to the job than he cared to remember. Those ghosts still kept him up at night, so the last thing he wanted was to lose a member of Tac-Ops, too.

It was because Falcon was one of them that they had to do things the right way…in the right order.

“You try calling his brother?” Digger—A.K.A. Slade Garrison—chimed in. “Last time I talked to Falcon, he said he was taking a trip with Colt.”

As usual, the former SEAL’s dark gray eyes held little emotion. The man held things close to the vest and could compartmentalize like a motherfucker.

One of the many reasons Rafe had chosen him to lead Tac-Ops One.

“I spoke with Falcon’s brother less than an hour ago,” Rafe answered Digger’s question. “The cruise ship they were on docked at Amber Cove early this morning, and Falcon left shortly after to go on a pre-paid excursion.”

“What kind of excursion?”

“All-day river hike and dune buggy ride through the province’s countryside.”

“Why didn’t Falcon’s brother go, too? Doesn’t make sense that our boy would go on something like that alone.”

Something Rafe had wondered, too, when he’d first heard the news that one of his men was missing.

“According to Coulter Morgan, he’d come down with a bad case of sea sickness the night before. He opted to stay aboard the cruise ship to rest while Falcon and a woman named Avery Webb went on the river and dune buggy trip together.”

“Avery Webb?” Bones looked to the others and then back to him for the answer. “Who the hell is Avery Webb?”

“A woman Falcon and his brother met on the ship the first day. From what Coulter shared, the three of them hit it off from the start, but the Webb woman and Falcon had become quite…close.

Normally, this is where Bones or one of the others would make some crude, smart ass comment about their teammate and the woman. But no one, not even Bones, was in a joking mood.

“Falcon hooks up with some strange woman and now he’s missing?” Digger’s expression was unreadable. “Do we think she’s involved?”

With their line of work, enemies looking for revenge was always a possibility. But in this particular instance, Rafe didn’t believe that was the case.

“Shadow ran a preliminary background on Miss Webb.” He went on with what he knew. “She’s a financial and accounting software designer who also happens to live here, in Charlotte. From what Shadow told me, the Webb woman is clean. As in squeaky. She’s single, lives alone, is successful at what she does… And there’s not so much as a parking ticket on her record.”

“What else do we know?” Bones sounded anxious. Unlike Digger, the man’s brown eyes gave away damn near every emotion he felt the second he felt it.

And right now, he was itching to get the hell out of here and go after their man.

“I was already putting together a plan to locate and extract when Shadow phoned me again,” Rafe answered the other man. “Forty minutes after she got Falcon’s alert, authorities within the San Francisco area were made aware of a ransom demand made by unknown individuals to one of the cruise passenger’s sisters.”

“Ah, shit.” Bones fell back into his chair. “Let me guess. They were on the same excursion as Falcon.”

Rafe’s nod was his answer. “The hostage takers demanded one million dollars be transferred to an offshore account in the Cayman’s. They left account numbers with instructions not to involve the authorities, but the sister was so distraught, she called nine-one-one as soon as the HTs ended the call.”

“Wait,” Bones spoke up again. “So, it’s not just Falcon and another passenger who’s missing, but the entire excursion group?”

“Plus, their two guides. That’s correct.”

There were several low curses.

“When I spoke to Falcon’s brother, he told me he’d received a ransom demand, as well. Shadow confirmed the same type of call was made to a family member of each of the other missing passengers. Each time the caller demanded a million-dollar transfer.”

“What’s our deadline?” Digger inquired.

“Forty-eight hours.” Which meant they had two days to get Falcon and the others the hell out of there.

Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, Bones asked, “Did Colt inform authorities when he got the call?”

“He did,” Rafe decided to share that fact with the group.

What he didn’t share was which authorities Coulter Morgan had contacted. Authorities who’d immediately called Rafe to apprise him of the situation.

Another story for another day.

“Do we have an LKL?” This came from Digger.

“We do.” Rafe spun his computer monitor around to reveal a satellite image of the group’s last known location. “Their last known location was here. The route is supposed to take them up over this hill, around this bend for a U-turn, and then back to the business’s location, where they started. We know the group made it to this spot”—he pointed to the screen—“because that’s where a local farmer discovered the twelve abandoned dune buggies.”

Apollo studied the screen closely. “Anything else left behind?”

“Only their helmets and a pair of water shoes. Small, so we’re assuming they belonged to one of the women.”

“Anyone claim responsibility?” Digger looked up from the screen. “A militia group using the hostages for a political statement? Or do we think this is all about the cash?”

“So far, the evidence points to money.”

“How are we playing this thing out, Boss?” Bones stared back at him. “Are the locals going to let us come and set up camp, or do we do this thing under the wire?”

“Local authorities can’t be trusted. Too many have connections to Emilio Garcia.”

“Garcia…” Apollo let the name roll off his tongue. “That the guy that’s been in the news lately? The presidential candidate who’s promising to bring change to the DR?”

“The very same.”

“Any particular reason we shouldn’t trust him?”

One giant one.“Garcia is a career politician,” Rafe informed them. “He’s also believed to be the head of the El Sur Cartel.”

His office erupted in what-the-fucks.

“Let me guess…” Apollo gritted his teeth. “We can’t get any evidence to prove it, and the people there are too afraid to go against him.”

Rafe gave the man a nod. “Got it in one.”

“Why isn’t that part on the news?” Digger grumbled.

Bones answered with a quipped, “Fucker probably owns the news stations, too.” Then, with a loud exhale, the former Marine let his frustration fly. “Enough of this bullshit. We know where Falcon and the others were last seen and when, and you have a bead on his tracker. So what the hell are we waiting for?”

Right on cue, Rafe’s secured line began to ring.

Answering, he listened as the man on the line informed him, “Sir, the jet is fueled and ready.”

“Thank you.” He ended the call and looked at Bones and the others. Grabbing his keys, phone, and jacket from the back of his chair, he said, “We’re not waiting on a damn thing. Grab your weapons and gear, gentlemen. We’re going to get our boy back.”

* * *

“I can’t believethis is happening.” Avery pulled away enough to turn her watery eyes up to meet his.

Neither could Garrett.

Holding her trembling body closer to his, they swayed as the cargo truck they were in hit a bump. With his back against the vehicle’s hard, inner wall, he’d kept her cradled in his arms since they were forced at gunpoint to climb inside with a handful of others.

There had been three trucks in total, and the group of tourists plus the two guides had been split up between them. Keeping track with his watch, Garrett made a mental note that they’d been on the road for nearly two hours.

With everyone else lost in their own fear and conversations, he kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek there. “We’re going to be okay.”

As long as his team got to them in time, that is.

Earlier, while he’d been lying on the ground, still dazed from the hit he’d taken, Garrett had pressed the button on the side of his watch three consecutive times.

The clicks were designed to activate his emergency tracker signal. The second he’d pushed the button that third time, an alert was sent straight to Shadow’s system.

At least that’s how it was supposed to work. Neither he nor any of the other guys on the team had ever had to use theirs before now.

Please let it have worked.

Avery choked out a half-laugh, half-cry. “That man almost shot you!”

“But he didn’t,” he reminded her.

The fucker would have if Avery hadn’t thrown her body over his. Christ Almighty, he’d never forget the way she’d risked herself trying to protect him. Or the terror he’d felt thinking she may die because of it.

He’d never been so goddamn scared in his life.

Before that, when he’d seen the men at the front of their trail, Garrett had made the decision to bring his Glock 26 out from behind his back.

He’d known Avery would see it—there was no way for her not to see it. And there would be questions he’d have to answer. Ones that could end up ruining what they’d only just started to build.

But in that moment, when he’d realized something was about to go down, his need to protect her had risen above everything else.

It had been a rookie mistake, missing the two bastards coming up from behind. When he finally did see them, he’d had no choice but to conceal the weapon once more.

If he’d been alone, there would’ve been zero hesitation on his part. He would’ve opened fire and taken them both out.

But he hadn’t been alone. Avery had been standing right beside him with that bastard’s gun pointed at her head. And she was something he would never, ever risk.

She risked herself for you, though.

Yes, she had. The crazy, incredible woman had literally put herself between him and a fucking M13.

Never again, baby. Never. Fucking. Again.

Garrett gently guided her head back to his chest and drove that point home.

“I need you to promise me something,” he spoke with a soft, calming voice.

“What?”

“No matter what happens, you won’t put yourself into harm’s way for me like you did earlier. Not ever.” When she didn’t respond, he gave her a little shake. “Avery? Did you hear what I said?”

“I heard you.” Her voice sounded small.

“Promise me.”

She waited a beat before looking back up at him again. Shaking her head she said, “I can’t promise that.”

“Avery—”

“No, Garrett.” She sat up straighter. “I know I’m not strong enough to fight these men off by myself, but I also can’t stand back and watch them hurt you without at least trying to help.” A tear fell down her cheek, leaving a silver streak through the dust on her skin. “I know this thing between us is new, but I…I care about you, Garrett. More than I ever thought possible. So, no.” She swiped at another falling tear. “I’m sorry, but I won’t promise you that.”

Ah, baby.

Her words made his heart swell to the brim and shattered, all at the same time. Waves of unprecedented feelings brewed from somewhere deep inside. A perfect emotional storm created by both the love he felt for this woman, and the fear of what may come.

Holy fuck. You love her.

If he wasn’t already sitting down, Garrett would’ve fallen to his knees.

It was too soon for that. Way, way too soon.

Except…somehow, it wasn’t.

In that one, horrific moment when he’d thought she was about to be killed and he was too out of it to stop it, Garrett’s entire world had shattered in an instant.

A world he couldn’t imagine living in without her.

I never want to be without her.

Things had happened so fast he hadn’t had time to stop and analyze his thoughts or feelings. But now that he had, Garrett knew with utter certainty that his feelings for Avery weren’t just real…they were everything.

Cupping one side of her face, he brushed his thumb across her smooth cheek and whispered, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that.” Her chocolate eyes softened.

“It’s true.”

He blinked at the sudden stinging in his eyes. Nausea churned in his gut at what he was about to reveal, but he couldn’t avoid it any longer. She deserved to know the whole truth.

Starting with what his job really entailed.

Bolstering up the courage, he drew in a breath and said, “Sweetheart, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Does it have to do with why you brought a gun on a cruise?” Avery frowned. “How did you even get it onto the ship in the first place? And where was it when we were in the water earlier?”

All valid questions that could be answered with one simple statement.

I’m a covert agent working for a highly classified black ops group owned by a former MI6 operative who answers directly to the President of the United States.

Simple, his ass.

With his heart kicking the shit out of his chest, Garrett swallowed his nerves and said, “Avery, I—”

The truck jolted to a sudden stop, the force damn near throwing them onto their sides.

“We stopped.” Her wide eyes found his again. “Why did we stop?”

“I don’t know.” He looked toward the truck’s back door. “My guess is, we’ve made it to wherever these assholes plan to keep us until our ransom is paid.”

He’d overheard the two men who’d approached them discussing their plans for a big payout. A million each. That’s what they expected his and the others’ family members to pay in exchange for their freedom.

Hoping it would ease Avery’s worry—as well as the other hostages who’d been placed in the same truck as them—he’d waited for the doors to close and the truck to take off before sharing that information with them.

Some found it a relief, while others—like Avery—felt as though it was a death sentence.

A million dollars. Not many people could come up with that kind of money. Certainly not Alex, Avery’s sister. At least, that’s what Avery had told him.

After that plan to comfort her had backfired, he’d held her while she silently cried. Garrett assured her Colt could get enough money for them both but had held off telling her about his team for fear the signal hadn’t worked.

“Let’s go,” the man who’d just opened the door ordered gruffly.

One by one, the small group was led out of the truck and toward a large, cinderblock building in the middle of nowhere. Garrett surveyed the area and hostage takers with an operative’s eye, gathering as much intel as he could about who and what they were up against.

The land immediately surrounding the rundown building was barren. Closed off from the long dirt road leading up to it by a concrete wall that ran the property’s perimeter. A big, wooden gate was the only way in, but off to the south, west, and north was a forest that spanned miles.

If he could find a way for them to escape, he and Avery could head for the trees and lose themselves in their cover.

Then he’d find someone willing to help him contact his boss and the others. And Colt.

Garrett’s heart sank as he thought of his brother and how all this would affect both him and their dad.

They’d suffered through the loss of their mom. He hated knowing the news of his capture would cause them even more pain.

With another reason to hate these sonsofbitches, Garrett held onto his renewed rage, locking it away for safe keeping. Because the second he saw an opportunity, he was damn sure going to use it.

“You.” The man who’d hit him earlier walked over to Avery and grabbed her arm. “Come with me.”

“What?” Avery’s eyes flew to his. “Garrett?”

His fists became two balls of tight, white knuckles. “Let her go.”

“You want me to hit you again, tough guy?” The asshole mocked him with his heavy accent and humorous glare. Then the bastard tightened his grip on Avery’s arm and ripped her from Garrett’s grasp.

“No!” she screamed, the sound shredding him. Struggling against the man’s strong hold, she did everything she could to get herself free. “Let me go!”

At the same time, another scream filled the hot, humid air. This one from a teenage girl who’d been at the front of the line.

“Daddy!” The blonde who couldn’t be more than sixteen reached in vain for her father as one of the HTs pulled her from the distraught man’s arms.

Others around him began crying or yelling at the men to stop, but Garrett was focused on the fact that both the girl and Avery were being led away from the group. Toward the north end of the building.

Fuck this.

“Get your hands off her!” He went after the prick manhandling Avery. Giving the bastard a hard shove, Garrett wrapped his hands around her tiny wrists and pulled her back toward him.

He almost had her free when…

“Look out!”

Avery’s eyes grew wide as saucers as she stared at something over his shoulder. Spinning toward the source of her terror, Garrett saw the butt of a gun half a second before it slammed against his temple.

He dropped to the ground, and no matter how hard he fought against it, the darkness pulled him under. The trickle of warm blood—his blood—followed a path from his hairline to just beneath his eye, dripping down to the dirt below.

The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Avery screaming his name.